You might just need to find your special.

One of the few concepts I’ve picked up in my twenty six convoluted yet beautiful life is that I shouldn’t push aside the need I feel to be special to someone. I’ve been told countless times how normal this craving is.

As a child, all I wanted was to be special but I had siblings. Parental love was shared amongst me and my siblings and though my parents tried to show us how much they loved us all equally, we all knew who the favorites were. My mom’s favorite is my eldest sister (woman, deny it or forever hold your peace) and my dad, just like me is a chameleon (it changes per season).

Then I had other homes where I knew for sure that I couldn’t be anyone’s favorite because I was a tough, reckless and rebellious teenager. All the questions kids didn’t dare to think, I defiantly asked. I stood up proudly to elders, squished my nose at them and blame them for things I blamed society for. (I wish. But I was rebellious. The Adam and Eve kind).

So, I thought I’d be special to someone else along the line and then my crushes started to crush me. Most of the guys I liked as a teenager never liked me back in that way. Don’t get me started on how many they were and how some of them would come back into my life after a while with the whole “I liked you back then” line. 🤪🤪

Hehehehe. Who’s laughing now?

Then I started to know how it felt to be special to someone. It was strange, fluttering, made my stomach hurt a little and my heartbeat thud a little unusually but I enjoyed it.

After a few love affairs and pieces of broken hearts and some scars, here is what I can say to this whole we all desire to be loved and to love thing:

I had to learn how to feel special to myself before I could really enjoy knowing that I’m special to someone. I thought I’d found liberation one knowing that someone loved me. Loved me for who I am. Accepted me for who I am. Approved of me as I am. Asides the love of God, knowing that someone else loved me without loving myself didn’t make me feel special.

If anything, it kept me on the edge because I couldn’t see what they saw and I’d just mess things up with ignorance, insecurity and no grounded conviction about my identity.

Being in love is sweet. Trust me. I know. I’ve been there a few times and currently, I am. But man, do you know and love thyself?